


But I Don't Have No Money

by dicktrickle



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bottom Hanzo Shimada, Class Differences, Cliche, Derogatory Language, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, M/M, Mechanic Jesse McCree, Oral Sex, Power Exchange, Roleplaying (implied), Sex for payment, Sex in a Car, Sex on a Car, Spanking, Spitroasting, Stink Kink, Sweat, Top Jesse McCree, ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9364883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicktrickle/pseuds/dicktrickle
Summary: Hanzo was stranded in the desert, his car stuck in the only shop for 50 miles. Without his wallet.He was going to kill Genji. But not before paying the rugged mechanic for his services with the clothes off his back.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first 2000 words of this for kinktober (as I have with my previous fic...), so if it sounds different half way through, that's why! 
> 
> Please... take it! Enjoy!  
> I love you all, Marta

As if the burning, blistering day couldn’t get any worse.

“Well, somehow you managed to burn through the motor oil _and_ your transmission’s shot.” Hanzo couldn’t help but glare at the only greased up, sweaty, painfully attractive mechanic for 50 miles. He knew it was no one’s fault but his own, but he’d rather vent than beat himself up all day.

“Peachy. Since you’ve identified it, you must be able to fix it?” It wasn’t so much a question, he knew he should have withheld the bite in his voice, but the 100 degree heat and _s_ _evere lack of air conditioning_ in the shop was getting to him. “I’ll pay extra to have it done as quickly as possible.”

“Sure, I can get it done ASAP, but it’ll be a pretty penny for the parts and time. I reckon it’d be around $1,300 for the whole thing, and at least until the morning to get it back on the road.” Wiping his hands on an already filthy rag, the mechanic approached Hanzo, eyebrow raising as he took in his first real look of the man. He was inclined to take Hanzo’s word after getting an eyeful of the full Armani suit and Rolex on his wrist. Not that he truly needed it, having just finished inspecting a car worth more than a quarter of a million dollars.

“Money is of no issue, I just want it done so I can get out of this… dump.” He had honestly tried to find another word, but even Hanzo had his limits. However, he knew the heat was not to blame for this snark.

“That’s great, because for jobs as big as this, I need half the price for a deposit and the rest when the job’s done,” the mechanic took a few steps towards Hanzo, too many steps, in his opinion. He was practically looming over him when he continued, “Think you can give it to me now?”

Hanzo had never backed down from a challenge before, and he was not about to start now. Voice flat, eyes narrowing, “I’d be delighted,” he said, raising his arm as if to touch the other man, letting it hang between their bodies, deftly slipping it into his front pocket to remove his wallet.

The day could, indeed, get worse.

The wallet laid empty, gutted of all of its cash and cards. Briefly, Hanzo realized this was the reason why his brother had looked giddier than usual when they had parted ways earlier in the day.  He cursed his brother with every breath and fiber of his being.

“It would seem…”

“I have eyes, sug.” Hanzo did not miss the judgmental teeth sucking from the mechanic. He racked his mind, split between thinking of a solution and a plan for disposing his brother’s body, when the mechanic spoke again. “Now, I’m not about to ask for your jewelry or the clothes off your back--”

A devilish idea, and an even more sinister smirk.

“You might not truly be asking for it, but judging from your gaze, you’ve already fucked me at least in seven different positions since the moment I stepped into your shop.” Hanzo looked up at the mechanic, reveling in the shadow of this large, muscular man. “Surely, you _must_ want the clothes off my back,” he pulled the mechanic by his bulky belt buckle, paying no mind to its inscription, “even if it’s not for payment.” He nearly spit out the last sound of the word, angling his chin up enough to almost rub it against the other man’s.

The mechanic’s arms shot out, grabbing Hanzo by the hips, an impressive outline grinding against him, mouth dipping down to Hanzo’s neck, murmuring against his throat, “If you fuck as well as you dress, then we might just have a deal.”

Hanzo would have responded, but the mechanic thought it a perfect time to lick a stripe up his neck, grinding harder, taking two rough, calloused handfuls of his ass.

“Hun, I’ll take you in payments, so why don’t you get yourself inside while I start on the car, huh?” Lifting him like he was nothing, Hanzo was quite forcefully pushed toward the only door in the garage, receiving a slap to his ass as he ran --walked quickly-- towards to inside.

“Oh, and sug?” Hanzo turned, glassy eyes, pants visibly straining. “Think of me, yeah? Get good and ready, because we’re diving straight in.”

Hanzo lost his balance, torn between heading inside to prepare himself for his payment, and running back to the mechanic, willing to fuck in the open air garage against his busted up car.

“Come out here when I call for you, you hear?” Though it had been yelled, the mechanic doubted Hanzo could hear him, worked up and horny as he was.

\------

It wasn’t more than 40 slow, grueling minutes before the mechanic called Hanzo back out into the garage. He met Hanzo at the door, leaning against the frame on one arm, the smile spread across his face filthier than the rest of him. Though Hanzo’s flush had receded considerably, it came raging back when they locked eyes, bleeding downwards toward the large patches of exposed chest.

Hanzo tried to look refined, attempted to look composed and regal under the hungry stare of the mechanic, but unraveled within seconds. Although he had no mirror, he knew he looked disheveled and as if he had already been laid to waste, the preparation he put himself through crossing the line from sufficient to indulgent.

“Fucked yourself good and ready, sug? ‘Cause I meant what I said earlier, we’re diving in whether you’re good to go or not.” The mechanic moved aside, allowing Hanzo to pass him, swatting his ass and taking a firm hold of it as they moved towards the car.  Before Hanzo could ask what the plan was, the mechanic’s other hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him. “I know you offered yourself for this, made your offer a real temptation, but we don’t have to.” The mechanic’s voice rolled over him like molasses, dark, heady. “You seem pretty into it, just looking at'cha, but if you say stop, I’ll listen, you hear?” Hanzo pointedly turned to face the other, holding his gaze for a few moments before solidly nodding, starting to turn around. Their chests never collided, however, as he was kept in place, while the mechanic none too gently tore Hanzo’s shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Those same hands moved to grope Hanzo’s chest, pinching and pulling the pebbled nipples, pushing the handfuls up and out.

“Good and ready doesn’t mean wearing clothes, honey. Especially when you’ve got such a treat waiting for me underneath your shirt alone.” Hanzo was pulled back as close to the mechanic as physically possible, feeling every inch and a very prominent jut in the small of his back. A few squeezes, some more pulls, and he was turned and lifted, placed on top of the hood of the car. The mechanic made a show of unbuttoning his uniform shirt, balling it up and throwing it at Hanzo when it was off. He settled his hands on his belt, fingers crawling towards the center to unlatch it, before he spoke more. “But there is something… very tempting about fucking through some clothes, though.” He unbuckled the belt, and slowly, _tantalizingly slowly_ , pulled it, hoop by hoop. The sound of leather scratching against denim should not have turned Hanzo on, but the loud moan he released proved otherwise.

“No good way to fuck with these pants still on ya, sug, hurry it up before I rip those too.” Another moan escaped Hanzo, the promise --threat?-- of that unbridled strength being used on him hurrying him along. He removed the shirt from his face but not before taking note of the name tag --McCree--, scrunching it into one hand, bringing it up to his face, inhaling deeply and taking it between his mouth before undoing his pants. He threw them aside, rolled onto his stomach, and _spread_ his legs clear across the expanse of the car, feet hooked on either side of the hood, boxer-clad ass lifted, upturned, ready. He looked over his shoulder at the mechanic, expecting to see a dumbfounded face, but was dumbfounded himself at what he saw.

The mechanic --McCree-- was casually stroking himself through his underwear, a content smile settled on his face, eyes never leaving Hanzo’s ass. Hanzo shivered under the gaze, lewdly spreading his legs even more, belly laid down flat and spine arched beautifully.

“Mighty impressive, there darlin’, flexible, _solid_ , absolutely impressive.” A few sharp tugs before McCree began walking towards Hanzo, hands settling on those sturdy hips, fingers digging in, deeper than was necessary. “And you’re sure you’re ready for me, honey?” He settled his entire weight on Hanzo, slotting his fat cock between the cheeks of Hanzo’s ass, wiggling slightly to dig in further. If he could have, Hanzo would have rubbed back against the hard, sturdy weight of the man above him. He never got the chance, however, as McCree bodily yanked Hanzo’s boxers down, enough to leave the flesh of his ass exposed, but not much else.

“What a sight, what a beautiful sight,” McCree crooned, clawed fingers spreading his ass, slightly gaped hole glistening, winking under his gaze. “Damn, sug, gaping already, huh? How many fingers did you get in here?” A rough thumb pressed over the hole, dipping in slightly. “Was it two? Three? Don’t tell me you went for four, hun.” Two of the mechanic’s fingers slipped into the lubed up hole easily, spreading while pushing in and out, a lewd squelch following their every movement.

“I’ll take this,” he removed his fingers only to just as easily insert three at once, “as a yes.” He removed his fingers entirely seconds later, large palm coming down flat on Hanzo’s ass in three quick successions, the resounding smacks not covering up Hanzo’s mewl of pleasure.

“Yes! Yes, it was four!” Hanzo panted, finding it easier to breathe now that the mechanic lifted himself completely off of him. He was about to complain, but instead yelped out in surprise and arousal when a soft, warm tongue licked the entirety of his hole, delving in the slightest bit before lifting off of him.

“Like that, don’cha, darlin’?” McCree chuckled against his ass, tongue licking in deeper than before, mouth open wide and pressed as close to the ass as possible. It was almost too much for Hanzo, never having been subjected to being eaten out, much less by a talented stranger on the hood of his own car. It was lewd, it was vile, it was--

It was everything Hanzo had ever craved.

The mouth continued to work him over, occasionally moving to leave bites and kisses to the surrounding areas, never straying too far from the matter at hand. Hanzo couldn’t help it-- he moaned at the sensations, attempting to cover his mouth and coarse screaming, but McCree had taken ahold of his arms, effectively pinning him flat on his stomach, unable to move away from that wonderful, gifted tongue. Not that he wanted to, not in the slightest.

He had, however, buried his face into the uniform shirt, mouthing at it to quell his screams. The smell he had first found foul and sour he suddenly found enticing, arousing, _raw._ It was greater than the scent of a man; it was the scent of a hard working man, a man who got his hands dirty, a strong, capable man: a man who was currently laying Hanzo to waste with his mouth alone. Hanzo couldn’t get enough of it, rubbing his face and neck all over it, drooling freely, trying to rub the smell into his skin.

The mechanic soon took notice, having taken the lack of screams as a sign he had somehow come short in his ministrations. He saw instead Hanzo’s attempts to become one with the shirt, already glossy-eyed, looking half fucked out of his mind just from getting eaten out. An idea suddenly came to McCree, a simple suggestion that had the potential to become something greater.

“You seem real fond of that shirt, baby, but I can’t having you chewing through my only good work shirt,” McCree said, moving away from Hanzo into a squatting position, getting a good look at his handiwork in the process. “Why not put it on, hun, let it rub against you where I can’t.”

Hanzo panted back, mind still foggy, shivers cascading down his body from the intensity of having his ass played with, but slowly sat himself up, continuing to breathe into the shirt as he went. With one final, strong whiff, he shook the shirt open and slid his arms through, somehow feeling more exposed, wearing a-- a dirty rag, the shirt of the man who had just been eating him out so wonderfully, this stranger’s shirt and nothing else.

Legs dangling off the side of the car, Hanzo looked over to the mechanic, entire body ruddy from exertion, pleasure, and a minuscule amount of shame. To think, a manual laborer, a _nobody_ , laying his hands on a someone, a someone like Hanzo. And Hanzo reveled in it.

McCree snorted, wiping his mouth off on the back on his hand, licking his lips as he went. He set his arms on either side of Hanzo, boxing him in, not letting him look anywhere but at the mechanic. They held the stare for seconds, Hanzo licking his lips in turn, leaning forward slightly before pulling back, flush darkening every inch of skin visible.

“You’re real cute, ya know that? Innocent, as if you didn’t ask to get reamed against your busted up car.” Hanzo turned his head away sharply, only to get caught between two fingers, lifting his chin, squeezing his cheeks, smearing grease, dirtying his complexion further. “Nuh uh uh, you don’t get to hide from yourself now, you hear. I want you to say it. Say just what you’re doing here, just for me.”

“I…” McCree’s finger pulled his bottom lip down, squeezing his cheeks further. Hanzo licked out in retaliation, the finger moving down. “I believe… I offered myself to you as-- as payment for car services.” His steely gaze returned, meeting McCree’s head on despite the widespread flush. He would bend for this man in many ways, however he’d like, but not in this situation.

McCree smirked, grin lopsided, eyes twinkling as they roved across Hanzo’s face and chest, before settling back on his eyes. “There it is. Thought I lost you there for a hot minute.” He moved his face close to Hanzo’s, only to pull back at the last second before their lips touched,  copying what Hanzo had previously done. He let out a bark of laughter at Hanzo’s sour expression, before he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist and hefted him up, carrying him as if he weighed nothing.

Hanzo tried, and ultimately failed to hide the shudder that passed through his body at the move.

“Why don’t we get to the main event, sug? I could tease you for hours, don’t get me wrong,” he hefted Hanzo higher on his body, Hanzo instinctively wrapping his legs around McCree to help, “but I think, if I did, you’d faint from all the blood rushing to your… well, everywhere.” His laughter rang through the garage, echoing further in Hanzo’s ears as he buried his face in McCree’s neck.

Before his embarrassment could subside, Hanzo was shoved against the side of his car, the body between his legs hot, strong, gently gyrating against his own-- but distractedly. Looking up, he noticed McCree struggling with the back door, managing to open it before dumping Hanzo on the seats, climbing in shortly after.

Under those predatory eyes, Hanzo felt small, nervous, _coy_. He moved back until his back hit the other door, pressing himself as far against it as he can, looking ready to bolt should the opportunity present itself. He wouldn’t, and he knew McCree knew it, but the thrill of a potential chase ignited him, the flame of desire burning brighter with every second spent in the tight space with the mechanic.

McCree crawled towards him, keeping up the act of predator, shoving Hanzo harder against the door, laying his entire weight on the other, effectively trapping him. “Got you right where I want you, almost.” He shoved his hands under Hanzo’s legs, lifting him, like he weighed nothing --undoubtedly showing off his strength, all too knowingly-- to set him in his own lap, hands moving to grip both sides of Hanzo’s hips, thumbs rubbing small circles just below the edge of the mechanic’s shirt. “Perfect.”

Hanzo rolled his hips after steadying himself, feeling hard muscle move beneath him, a thick cock rising up through boxer shorts to greet his every move. He all but shoved his chest into McCree’s face, grinding down harder when those grimy hands moved to squeeze his ass, pulling and kneading, pawing at him for more.

He was getting lost in the sensations, tapping into the unbreached desires of being with a man such as McCree-- rough around the edges, unkempt, powerful, rugged. And given the last half hour’s activities, _raunchy_.

“You know, hun, today marks two firsts for me.” His words were uttered into Hanzo’s chest, neither willing to separate enough to let McCree’s words come out as more than a garble. “Never fucked someone in a Bentley,” he whispered, fingers pressing lightly against his hole, rubbing the leak back in and around the entrance. “And I ain’t never fucked someone as pretty as you.”

If Hanzo had any hesitations before, they were gone now.

Desperate was the only word that could describe Hanzo. Desperate, and hungry. Hungry for the man currently beneath him-- both in position and power-- the man currently calling the shots, holding the reigns, in control.

“No one has ever spoken to me like that before--” A hot mouth interrupted him, a thick tongue licking in, unfurling, reaching deep, deep, _deep_ , nearly suffocating him.

“Then let me be the first, sug.” Teeth assaulted Hanzo’s lips, soft kisses tracing his jaw, nibbles making their way down his throat, undoubtedly leaving mark after mark. “Let me treat you how you’ve always wanted,” a wet mouth sucked on a nipple, teasing the very tip, “slut.”

Hanzo dug his hands into McCree’s hair, forcing his head harder into his chest, the weight of his entire body grinding down on the mechanic, damning his underwear with every passing second. Hearing Hanzo’s frustrated groans, McCree hauled Hanzo up by the thighs, steadying him one handed as he pulled his boxers down enough to expose himself. Hanzo sat back down forcefully once he heard McCree’s sigh of relief, grinding, twisting, writhing mindlessly.

“Hun, at least let me put it in you before you start the show.” Hanzo at least had the sense to look humbled by his overeagerness.

McCree’s smile was overly charming, warm, _damning_. “Look at you; you’re losing your head for this, for me, aren’t you?” Prodding fingers finally entered him, Hanzo rutting harder against the chiseled body in front of him. “Wound so tight, intimidating; looking like you can cut a man twice your size down with just a pointed glance. But here you are. At _my_ mercy. You’re just full of surprises, huh honey?”

The thick fingers were removed then, leaving Hanzo feeling empty, wanting. His anticipation was palpable, choking the two in the cabin, reaching a fever pitch when McCree began adjusting himself just so--

“Well shit, seems I got carried away for a minute, I forgot to grab lube and a condom.” McCree dragged his free hand through his hair, looking away in his first show of fluster. Placing both hands on Hanzo’s thighs, he tapped his fingers anxiously across the quivering thighs, patting each gently before moving to wrap his hands around the thighs, making as if to remove Hanzo from his lap.

Panicking, Hanzo clamped his thighs tightly around McCree, effectively stopping him. Panting, from more than exertion, Hanzo shook his head, attempting to speak over his haggard breaths. “No! Don’t, don’t-- I have some, right--” he turned around, staying put on McCree’s lap, reaching behind himself for the glove box. A small struggle to open it, but Hanzo managed, a small laugh escaping him when he turned back with a small tube and foil wrapper in his hand. “Here,” he pressed the tube to McCree’s outstretched hand, “I have some here.”

“Did you plan this, or are you that huge of a slut?” McCree’s shocked chuckles rattled Hanzo, but instead of shame overcoming him, raw desire flooded his entire being.

Composing himself, Hanzo replied, “Neither, you just got lucky.”

“I’ll say.” He set the items down, focusing all his attention on Hanzo’s mouth, kissing the very breath from his lungs. Distracted, Hanzo didn’t feel McCree slip the condom on, or even slick himself up with the lube, unaware of anything until he was hefted up by the hips, the hands on either side digging in enough to bruise, his own hands wrapping around McCree’s head as he sank down, down, _down_.

“ _Have mercy._ ” Hanzo had never been a pious man, but the stars he saw behind his closed eyes were otherworldly.

“Not today angel.” And before another breath could leave Hanzo’s lips, he rammed straight up, pushing his hips down to meet halfway.

Unable to do anything more than hunch over McCree, Hanzo trailed kisses down his neck, mouth latching onto every inch he came in contact with. Every violent thrust was matched with an equally violent suck, teeth digging into sweaty skin, breaking it in some places. The rolling hips did not stop, however, only pushing up harder and faster.

“I’m not a chew toy, baby-- you can’t just,” McCree gasped when another bite was made just above his collarbone, definitely breaking skin. “That’s it.” Hands grabbing Hanzo’s shoulders, McCree pulled out of the other man, spinning him around, forcing Hanzo’s hands onto the center console between the front seats.

“You want something to bite, you’re going to bite the gear stick.” He sank back in, eliciting a moan from Hanzo, bent over as he was, legs spread wide to accommodate McCree’s body. Lewd, indecent, the feeling of being spread by McCree’s powerful body caused Hanzo to moan louder when the thrusts continued. “Go on,” a few short slaps landed on his ass as McCree spoke, “wrap your dainty lips and pointy teeth around it if you want to be feisty.”

Nodding, drowning in his own need, Hanzo leaned forward more, licking the stick from bottom to top, unsure if McCree could even see it, but burning from it even so. He opened his mouth wide, breath ghosting over the ball as he mouthed it, waiting for a lull in McCree’s thrusting so he wouldn’t choke on it. Waiting proved to be difficult, however, when McCree refused to slow his thrusts, calls for him to hurry up grunted out every other second. Hanzo obliged, mouth stretching impossibly wide, teeth digging into the expensive leather uncaringly.

“Filthy slut,” McCree’s voice was wrecked, nothing more than a croak, groans and gasps filling the cabin along with Hanzo’s. “You think you’re better than me, ha,” he moved his hands, one settling on the small of his back, the other wrapped around a thigh to bring Hanzo’s body back to him, “waltzing in here, _hoity toity_ , a real snob. _Aw yeah_ , but look who’s on top now.” The resounding slaps of hips colliding covered his laughter, but Hanzo felt it nonetheless.

The shirt on Hanzo’s back bunched up around his head, letting McCree see the flush spread to the furthest reaches of Hanzo’s lower back. Hanzo felt McCree lean forward sharply before he felt lips press against his nape, pressed further onto the ball in his mouth. His choked moan filled the cabin, quickly becoming a hum of pleasure as more kisses were gently pressed across his back.

Between kisses, McCree feverishly whispered sweet words, switching between powerful bucks and smooth grinding, pushing Hanzo closer to his climax second by second.

“You just love getting stuffed from both ends, don’t you?” And Hanzo came, spasms flowing through his body, uncaring if his custom suede upholstery was stained, uncaring if the indents his teeth left on the gear stick were permanent, completely uncaring of anything except his orgasm.

“Fuck!” And the mechanic followed shortly after.

\---

“Thank you for your patience and payment, Mr. Shimada. Your car is as good as new.” Eyes full of false disdain, Hanzo eyed the mechanic standing next to his car. There never stood a better man there than Jesse McCree.

“Yes, well,” a small cough passed his lips as Hanzo walked towards the car, inspecting the outside with a critical eye, “it was my pleasure, Mr. McCree."

“Which time, sweetheart?” Hanzo glared at McCree, turning sharply to face him. He was going to miss the mechanic’s rambunctious laughter. “I’m just messing with ya, sug. I know it was the time on the couch.” He barely avoided the punch Hanzo threw at his arm. Perhaps Hanzo was wrong about missing the buffoon.

“All jokes aside, the car shouldn’t give you any trouble. Here are the keys and invoice.” McCree passed both items to Hanzo, opening the driver door for him. “Give me a call when you get to wherever it is you’re going.”

Hanzo paused while climbing into the car, righting himself to step up to McCree, wrapping his arms around the man to deliver a searing kiss. Separating, Hanzo bit McCree’s bottom lip, murmuring, “Consider that a tip.” He turned around only for McCree to slap his ass, feeling something stick to the seat of his pants. Reaching down, he peeled off an oil change sticker, except where it should have said “oil change”, it read--

“Sex appointment sticker?” His voice as well as his face deadpanned, in response to both the sticker and  McCree’s smirk. Truly, he was going to miss this man.

“That’s right darlin’. You ever catch yourself around these parts, pay me a visit.” He ended it with a wink, hands pushing Hanzo down into the driver’s seat, closing the door before he could respond.

Hanzo sat dumbfounded for a few seconds, but quickly composed himself, looking out at McCree’s smiling face. With a small smile, he started the car, and drove off into the blistering heat, not looking back to the only mechanic shop for 50 miles.

\---

[One week later] 

McCree lied under an old Cadillac, attempting to screw a particularly slippery nut into place when he heard a car fast approaching. Curious, he rolled out, stepping out of his garage and looking out just in time to witness a Ferrari F60 America slowly crash directly into the tree in his front yard. He stood there, mouth agape, as the driver door opened, revealing none other than--

 “Hanzo.” The name quietly left his lips, standing stock still, unmoving, completely frozen from shock.

Hanzo calmly approached the garage, eyes locked with McCree’s with every step. He stopped just short of colliding with the mechanic, leaning back slightly to look directly up into McCree’s wide eyes.

“It would seem that I forgot my wallet again.” Hanzo’s fingers traced McCree’s name tag, circling it as he spoke. “Can you help me, Mr. Mechanic?”

 Shocked laughter passed McCree’s lips, smile spreading over his face as he dragged his arm across his brow, trying to compose himself. Eyes blinking rapidly, he looked from Hanzo to the car, eyes crawling back to Hanzo after a few moments.

 “ _That_ … will not be an issue.” An even bigger smile than before spread across his face before he continued, “It will probably cost _at least_ twice as much as the last job though. Think you can pay it?”

Stepping closer, Hanzo wrapped his arms around McCree’s neck. “With pleasure.”


	2. Care to Cum In?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another scenario pulled straight from a porno. This time, McCree has a more hands-on experience with his favorite client.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’M NOT DEAD AND NEITHER IS THIS FIC  
> Please read the new tags if you haven’t already!  
> Enjoy~

It was another blistering day in the desert, heat waves visible on every surface for miles around, the illusion of water blanketing the horizon. McCree lied working under his current project, an Oldsmobile owned by the town’s baker, hands deep in the inner workings of the car. A shrill noise rented the air, the shop’s phone ringing from its perch. He pulled himself away from his work, wiping his oily hands on a rag before reaching for the phone.

As he made a grab for the phone, he noticed an all too familiar number on the caller ID. McCree chuckled, asking himself why he would be making a call to his shop, and not his personal phone. He quickly disregarded his worry and answered, laughter still making it through his voice. “Good afternoon, you’ve reached McCree’s Auto Garage. How can I help you, _Mr. Shimada_?”

He knew his plan had worked when the only response he received was a stuttered greeting. “Hello, Jesse. How have you been?”

“Just peachy keen, sugar pie. But now you got me wonderin’.” He waited a moment after Hanzo hummed in response, before he pressed on. “Why you calling my work phone, sug? Not that I don’t mind the call, but this is a bit unexpected.”

A few breaths passed through the lines, the labored sound traveling from Hanzo’s mouth directly to McCree’s dick. Before Hanzo could even begin to explain himself, McCree knew what the phone call would be about, what his _favorite_ customer wanted.

“I enjoyed our… activities by the pool, during our last time. But I was wondering if we can… return to our roots.”

“Well, honey, you know I’m more than happy to please you, keep that smile on your face and moan in your throat.” He paused when the voice over the phone did just that, a healthy moan flooding the airways. “Whatcha got for me?”

“I… my car needs maintenance. It’s… a sensitive issue only _you_ can fix. I cannot, however, make my way to you, given the circumstances, as you may understand…” The voice through the phone shook, vibrating with anticipation, an anxious mood laced with arousal filtering through the airwaves.

“Oh?” McCree could not hold the amusement from his voice, an exaggerated surprised tone conveyed through his words. “Is something wrong? Does it require servicing?” He paused as a groan answered him, McCree audibly licking his lips before continuing in a harsh whisper. “Do you need me, Mr. Shimada?”

Panting flowed from one line to the other, deep exhales flooding out any other sound in McCree’s mind. He imagined what sort of state Hanzo -- _Mr. Shimada_ \-- had gotten himself into, from this phone call alone. _Probably touching his already drenched dick, playing with himself through his slacks, hoping no one would notice._

“Y-yes, it would seem-- _ahh_ , that I need you.” A noisy pause lapsed between them. “ _Need your skilled hands!_ Fuck, I mean, need your expert opinion, on my, my car.”

Every word through Hanzo’s mouth, forced out past a veil of lust, not losing an ounce of need across the transmission. McCree could not stop his own wavering moan, nor could he hold back the sigh of relief from touching himself, pretending it was Hanzo’s hand in place of his own. As he began his reply, he was cut off by Hanzo’s suddenly steady voice piercing through his ear.

“Hm, yes. I-I patiently await your arrival, travel accommodations have been set up for you, no need to worry about that.” The sudden seriousness in his voice tipped off McCree to think one of Hanzo’s coworkers had walked into his office, a potential McCree had no intention of accommodating for.

“You want my hands on your body, Mr. Shimada? Holding you down, playing you like a fine tuned guitar, knowing _exactly_ \--”

“Please be ready for pick up tomorrow morning at 8, a car will be sent for you. I will speak with you soon.” Hanzo’s voice cut off quickly as the line went dead, undoubtedly returning to his duties in a hurry before his coworker found out the true nature of his call.

Hanging his own phone up, McCree adjusted himself, his half hard cock pulsing at attention after the admittedly lewd conversation with his number one client. Before he could dirty his hands in his work again, his cell phone chimed a new text. Curious, McCree opened it and saw a new message from--

“Hanzo.” He smiled, taking in the sight Hanzo had graced him with. The photo depicted a close up of Hanzo’s lap, unmistakably aroused, one hand grasping the clothed erection, defining the print through the already too tight slacks. Beneath the picture, a simple sentence written out: “I need your handiwork”. Resigned to his fate, McCree grabbed himself once more as he cursed Hanzo under his breath, walking out of his shop and towards the bathroom to relieve his unyielding arousal.

 

* * *

 

 

Pulling up to the estate, McCree got an eyeful of Shimada Castle, reading its name on a plaque at the beginning of the mile long driveway leading to the house. He lowered the window as the car moved towards the entrance steps, the flowing breeze bringing in the scent of well manicured lawns and lovingly tended gardens.

As the car came to a stop, the driver herded McCree into the house, politely asking him to remove his shoes before stepping into the foyer. He took in his surroundings, the open room tastefully decorated with original works of art, literal masterpieces lining nearly every wall. Spinning in place, McCree took in every inch of the room, noticing the _actual_ paintbrush strokes in all of them, a low whistle passing his lips as he stopped. Approaching footsteps brought his attention to the greatest masterpiece he had ever come across.

Hanzo walked towards the foyer, calculated steps marking his entrance, the room getting hotter seemingly with his presence alone. He stopped just out of McCree’s reach, fanning himself as a smile crossed his face, eyes sparkling with reserved joy. “Hello, Jesse. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

McCree could not help but let his eyes rove over Hanzo. “The pleasure’s all mine, sug.” He took in Hanzo’s entire look, from his high ponytail to the towel hanging over the loose, unbuttoned shirt, all the way down to the baggy shorts wrapped around a narrow waist. As disheveled as McCree felt in the boiling mansion, Hanzo looked just as comfortable and _ravishing_ in comparison.

“That I am sure of. I apologize for the heat in the house, the air conditioning seems to be broken, and I’m sure as _handy_ ,” here Hanzo’s eyes lowered to the mechanic’s hands, “as you are, you can’t fix that problem.” He removed the towel from his shoulders, gently dabbing his chin and neck before throwing it towards McCree. “It’s no matter, let me show you to the garage.”

“Lead the way, gorgeous.” McCree brought the slightly damp towel up to his face, a deep whiff making its way through his nose, eyes closing when the heady, musky scent that was purely Hanzo hit him at its fullest. “Sure don’t mind the view.” Lowering the towel, he made quick to follow Hanzo’s retreating form, free hand occasionally extending to swat at Hanzo’s ass, taking a handful when he all but stuffed him against the corner of the laundry room leading out to the garage. “How’s about I work my hands on you instead?”

Hanzo swayed with the touch, melting in McCree’s arms. He pushed McCree away when scratchy lips settled low on his exposed neck, brushing himself of unsightly wrinkles, all while distancing himself from those wandering hands. “With all due respect, Mr. McCree, I believe I asked you here for a job, one of utmost importance.”

Smirking, McCree followed after, “So you’re gonna play this game all the way through, huh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Hanzo turned away to open the door to the garage, propping it open before continuing, “And there is your job for today.”

McCree whistled as he got the full view of the car, walking ahead of Hanzo in order to take in every angle of the luxury car parked before him. Hands on his hips, he circled the car once, coming to a stop at the hood. “Sure is a beauty you got here, Han. Must’a cost you a pretty penny, huh?”

“Money is of no issue to me, especially when I have my mind set on something.” His breath ghosted the nape of McCree’s neck, having sidled up directly behind him. Thick arms wrapped around McCree’s chest, deft fingers making quick work at unbuttoning McCree’s flannel. “It’s my favorite car, and as such, I can only have trusted hands work on it. I’m sure you understand.”

Rolling his shoulders back, McCree helped Hanzo strip him of the flannel, chuckling. “Baby, I’m flattered.” He stepped towards the car to pop open the hood. “So what seems to be the problem?” Looking up, he caught Hanzo all but shoving the soiled shirt against his nose, eyes closed as he breathed in its musky scent.

Hanzo jerked the shirt away from his face, looking dazed as he replied, “I’m not sure. All I know is that there seems to be an issue with it. Surely a man as capable as you can figure it out?” He let his eyes rove over McCree’s body, tracing the outlines of his exposed arms with great care. Before McCree could nod, Hanzo straightened up, rolling the shirt in his hands. “I’ll wash this up for you as you work, if you don’t mind. Can’t have you _completely_ filthy in my home.”

“I love it when you act like you’re not the filthiest thing here, sug.”

McCree watched Hanzo’s retreating back, watched the falter in his steps before he was left alone in the garage. Wiping the sweat from his brow with the edge of his tank top, McCree turned to look in the open hood, thinking up a mental list of diagnostic tests to run. _Never worked on a Rolls Royce before, this will be interesting_.

 

* * *

 

McCree must have raised his tank to wipe the sweat from his brow for what could have been the hundredth time. The heat in the garage felt worse than it had in the house, cars and exercise equipment stifling the air further, thickening every breath McCree took. It had only been half an hour since he started work on the car, quickly finding the issue (a simple oil change), yet Hanzo had not returned once in that time. Scooting back beneath the car, he almost missed the sound of the door leading into the house opening.

“ _Jesse_ …” The disembodied voiced purred from the doorway. Steps followed the call, stopping just short of the car. “You doing okay in here?”

“Just-- _unh_ , just fine, doll, it was just a simple oil change.” A splash hitting a bucket erupted from under the car, McCree releasing a groan as he untightened the last bolt to let the oil flow freely. “Should be done drainin’ in a few, then the replacement oil and filter and presto, good as new.”

Hanzo hummed in acknowledgement. “My apologies for the lack of air conditioning again, it’s very unfortunate timing. Would you care for a glass of lemonade?”

Wiping his brow _again_ , McCree nodded before remembering Hanzo could not see it. “I’m getting delirious from the heat, lemonade sounds lovely, sug. Lots of ice if you don’t mind.”

“Certainly.” The pittering of Hanzo’s feet crossing the garage reached McCree’s ears, stopping just short of him and the car.

“Thanks darlin’, I really appreciate it.” Securing the bucket, McCree rolled out from under the car, sitting up to remove the stained tank top, rubbing his eyes from the sudden glow of lights. He heard Hanzo move closer to him and reached out blindly to grab the glass Hanzo had offered to him. Tossing the drink back, McCree gulped loudly before looking up at the other man, nearly dropping the glass. “Can I ask for a tall glass of you, sugar?”

Wearing nothing but Jesse’s shirt, Hanzo stood before him, cheeks flushed, hair mussed, looking completely _ravaged_.

“Depends,” he said, brushing dirt off of McCree’s stolen shirt with a careless wave, “I don’t come cheap, McCree. You know this.”

“You don’t come cheap, but I could make you come. I could have you in a puddle in a second, if you’d let me.”

Shuddering from the words, Hanzo extended his hand to help McCree stand up, offering him more of the lemonade from the pitcher he brought with him. McCree gladly accepted, downing his second cup as quickly as he did the first. He felt the weight of eyes on him as he gulped the drink down, finding Hanzo staring between his throat and lips when he finished the drink. With the third drink poured, McCree took his time, savoring the taste, watching Hanzo inch closer with every sip.

Just as he was about to finish the last of his drink, a light touch from Hanzo caused him to sputter, drink spilling over the cup and streaming down his bare torso. They stood still, watching as wet trails patterned and twisted through the hair on his chest, rivulets forming indents in his tank top against expanse of his abs, ending abruptly to seep into the fibers of his jeans.

“Well, would you look at that,” McCree murmured, gaze fitted on Hanzo’s, watching him stare blatantly at the spill. “Can’t keep clean when I’m around you, I reckon.”

Hanzo nodded, a distracted sigh escaping his lips, eyes trailing up and down the expanse of newly revealed skin as McCree removed his tank top. He fell to his knees before McCree could continue drinking, hands planting themselves strongly against the front of McCree’s strong thighs, anchoring him down. They held eye contact as Hanzo inched forward even more, gently nosing the stained shirt, tongue coming out to lick the soiled waistband.

Licking his own lips, McCree took hold of Hanzo’s hair, ruffling it into further disarray. He pulled Hanzo’s head harder against his jeans, liquid wetting his cheeks and nose. He watched as Hanzo’s face burned redder and hotter, sure in himself that Hanzo enjoyed his display in power, thrived on it.

He watched as Hanzo closed his eyes, tracing the outline of the erection before him through the thick denim, unbearably close from the force of McCree’s grasp. McCree released a soft chuckle, breath heady and moist from the scene before him. “Let’s give those lips something to wrap around, you’re practically begging for it. Shall we move this elsewhere?”

Before Hanzo could respond, calloused hands gripped the lapels on his stolen shirt, lifting him briskly to standing. Grabbing more of the shirt, McCree pulled Hanzo close, enough for him to feel the expanse of the bare chest press into his own with each breath, smell the sweat and grease wafting from McCree’s drenched body in waves, surprisingly enticing. A small step, and McCree sat suddenly in an old beach chair, Hanzo pulled to stand between his outstretched legs. He dropped to his knees at the same time McCree unzipped his jeans, a well manicured hand replacing the grimy, soiled one, Hanzo making quick work to pull McCree’s cock out, pulsing and red in his grip.

The sound of liquid pouring broke his concentration. Looking up, Hanzo watched as McCree poured himself another glass of lemonade from the abandoned pitcher, setting it down when the glass reached half full, condensation quickly forming around McCree’s grip. McCree caught Hanzo’s gaze, an eyebrow lifting as he raised the glass closer to his mouth; a silent invitation to _get on with it_.

A guttural groan passed through Hanzo’s lips before he set to work. Launching himself forward, he slid up McCree’s naked chest, the copious amounts of sweat aiding him. He left a wet trail of his own, licking and pressing sloppy kisses along the tan skin, sliding ever higher up McCree’s hairy chest.

It took every ounce of strength in Hanzo’s body to peel himself off the body before him, lifting his head the bare minimum to look into McCree’s eyes. The upturned bottom of McCree’s glass greeted him instead. Not one to be ignored, Hanzo resumed his work, soft bites falling on open patches of skin, tongue catching the taste of lemonade and heady flavor of man in a single swipe. Despite it all, McCree continued with his drink, keeping the glass pressed to his lips, a soft hum fluttering under Hanzo’s torso as he swallowed a large gulp, lips smacking from the tang.

With one quick burst of force, Hanzo slid his upper body still higher up McCree’s torso, settling his head along the seam of his left armpit, and _sniffed_. “I can’t be left wanting,” he gasped, “ _especially_ not for this.”

For the second time that day, McCree spilled his drink all over himself, rivulets cascading along Hanzo’s skin as well, becoming tacky and sticky from the combined heat. Hanzo paid it no mind, taking advantage of the liquid to ease his movement along McCree’s chest, forcing his stomach to grind along McCree’s pulsing dick. McCree sat there, stunned at the sight before him, seeing, feeling, _hearing_ Hanzo lose himself to his actions, his desires.

A hard, full swipe of a tongue dipping between the crease of arm and ribs jolted him back to lucidity. “Never took you for one to have this kind of interest,” a tremor stained his voice, Hanzo openly panting, gently nosing the bare armpit, “...but I should’a known.” He raised his right arm high, stretching it low to press against Hanzo’s lower back, rutting against the body rubbing above him. “A man as pristine as yourself must have some secrets, after all. Absolutely filthy, at that.”

Another full swipe of his tongue and Hanzo raised his head, craning his neck back to look McCree right in the eyes. They held their stare for a few seconds, hips and torso never stopping, sliding and rubbing against each other, the slick sound filling their ears. Still holding the stare, they both move in their own fashion towards the same goal, McCree stretching his body out, his hand on Hanzo’s back slowly pushing him down, down, _down_. Hanzo took it in stride, settling back onto his knees before the man, placing his hands on the open V of McCree’s unzipped jeans, fingers slowly crawling to their center, slowly inching inward, eyes never wavering from the other’s.

Before McCree could react--unsure whether to bark a command or beg for release--Hanzo plunged his hand into McCree’s jeans, drawing out his balls, heavy and humid in his hands. A quick roll in Hanzo’s hands had McCree bending at the waist, sharp exhales becoming breathless pants with every second. Hanzo leaned forward as well, pressing his bare chest flush against McCree’s straining cock. Faces just a hair’s width apart, Hanzo’s tongue darted out to lick against McCree’s lips before he quickly slid back down, bodily rubbing every inch of his exposed chest down McCree’s cock. A deep breath of air filled Hanzo’s lungs, and he plunged face first into McCree’s lap, nosing and licking every space he could.

McCree’s hands tangled themselves in Hanzo’s hair, offering a rough tug the lower Hanzo’s head pushed itself against him. He felt Hanzo’s wet breaths coat his already sweaty groin, becoming wetter with every lap of Hanzo’s tongue. Nothing but the sound of panting breaths and deep whiffs filled the room, McCree himself sitting in shocked and awed silence.

Seemingly satisfied, Hanzo raised his head, finding McCree’s eyes with his own. His mouth lay open, glistening from the left over spit from his kisses and licks. His eyes looked up and through McCree, pupils blown to encompass his entire iris, the look in them swimming with desire. McCree gulped and threaded his fingers in Hanzo’s hair harder, breaking the gaze and all but shoving Hanzo’s head down towards his lap. Taking the cue, Hanzo opened his mouth, lips ghosting over the steadily leaking cock before him. He looked up one last time to meet McCree’s eyes, a single beat passing between them, before wrapping his lips and sinking all the way down on the proffered cock.

He stayed rooted, nose buried deeply into McCree’s musty pubic hair, groaning at the smell. A shiver crawled up McCree’s spine at the vibration pulsing all around him, unintentionally pressing up into Hanzo’s mouth. Stifling the gag, Hanzo pressed even _further_ , taking the treatment in stride. He licked up the shaft as he brought his head up, only taking as little time to take in a breath before sinking down completely once more, another groan erupting from him, spurred on by his own actions.

Movement near his ankles had McCree looking for the source. He watched as Hanzo ground against his leg with the slightest of motions, a betrayal of Hanzo’s attempt to get off without being noticed. He spread his legs further to give Hanzo more room to work, feeling Hanzo become more frenzied in response.With a quick pull Hanzo pulled the cock from his mouth, catching his breath before diving down to lick the base, burying his nose amongst the coarse hair. McCree felt Hanzo take his balls in hand, ready to voice concern at what the other had in mind. “What are you-- _my god_.”

Hanzo’s nose softly brushed the skin of McCree’s balls as his tongue forcefully laved against McCree’s taint, Hanzo’s groan rattling them both to their cores.

McCree had had enough. Taking hold of as much hair as possible, he gently but firmly pulled Hanzo’s mouth away from his groin, the spittle rapidly cooling against him as the air settled around where Hanzo had just been. Despite the heat of the garage, a chill swept through him, missing the other’s contact.

Reaching down, McCree slipped his hands under Hanzo’s arms, bodily lifting him to his feet. Not letting Hanzo get his bearings, he shoved the man backwards a few steps, hand wrapped tightly into his stolen shirt to carefully Hanzo where he wanted him to go.

With a yelp, Hanzo fell backwards onto a padded bench, a relic of an outdated bench press set from his exercise room. He straddled the bench as McCree loomed over him, bent at the waist to avoid contact. Desire coursed through their bodies, both already teased too far and too hard, lust tightly coiled, ready to burst.

Taking a thigh in each hand, McCree pried them open, exposing Hanzo fully to his gaze. “So you _have_ been playing with yourself, huh, sug?” Hanzo’s groan answered him, growing in volume as he pressed his thighs down farther, pressing down into Hanzo’s clothes chest. “You used four fingers again, honey? And plenty of lube, you’re practically dripping.” A sound closely resembling ‘yes’ fell from Hanzo’s lips in response. Smirking, McCree straddled the bench himself, scooting himself closer to Hanzo, stopping just short of the other man.

“Well then. Get to it.” And McCree sat still, hard cock in hand, implicit suggestion registering in Hanzo’s mind after a few moments.

A whine escaped Hanzo’s mouth, a look of mild annoyance crossing his features as he scooted down, inch by inch. He raised his hips enough to be level with the dripping cock jutting just out of reach, nudging against the resistance as it breached into him, excess lube from his earlier solo session easing the way.

They came together slowly, bottoming out with a gasp. A few rapid swirls of Hanzo’s hips forced McCree closer, pulling him in, flesh hand reaching out to steady himself with the barbell at the head of the machine. Hanzo’s arms moved to balance himself as well, one landing at the head of the bench to keep from getting bucked off from the force of McCree’s thrusts, the other finding purchase at his side.

Every few thrusts McCree would stop, provoking Hanzo to cant his hips up, letting him fuck himself back on McCree’s dick at his own frenzied pace.

The heat in the room continued to rise, reaching its apex at the same rate as the two men inside. Sweat beaded across their bodies, freely flowing down their chests, backs, and hair. Droplets fell onto Hanzo’s body from McCree’s chest, frantic thrusts creating streams that gathered at point on McCree’s bare chest, their collected weight dislodging them drop by drop.

Noticing Hanzo’s focus on the sweat gathering on his chest, McCree let out a gruff chuckle, the rumble shaking his entire body. “You wear me out, sug, got me dripping every which way.” He flipped his hair then, splattering Hanzo with a few beads. With his mechanical hand, McCree grabbed one of Hanzo’s pecs, squeezing, smearing leftover oil and grease from the car’s engine all along Hanzo’s fair skin. “A dirty look for an absolutely filthy man.”

With that final touch Hanzo came, the planes of his stomach doused in cum and sweat.

“Y-you always squeeze me s-so good-- good when you come, sug.” Staccato pants littered McCree’s words, unable to slow himself down from chasing his own orgasm. A blissful aftershock from Hanzo pushed McCree over the edge, body going taut as he came deep into Hanzo, aborted thrusts pushing him further in.

They collapsed onto the bench, McCree’s weight pinning Hanzo down onto the bench, the sweat from their activities leaving them unsteady.

Drenched in their own fluids, they panted into the humid room of their own doing, thirst quickly catching their attention. Heaves and groans came from them both as they detangled, slick bodies sliding apart with little grace. Laughter filled the stifling room as they kissed, keeping them short and chaste, trying not to come in contact with the other’s sweaty body.

“Th-thank you, Jesse,” Hanzo’s voice coming out more breath than actual words. Shivers washed over his body as he stood, sweat continuing to drip down as he put his weight on his trembling legs. “It’s too hot in here,” he gasped, slowly but steadily making his way towards the house, “let me turn on the air conditioning.”

Head snapping up, McCree stared at the man he had just given the fucking of a _lifetime_ to, wondering if he had heard him correctly. Based on the smug look crossing Hanzo’s flushed, ruddy face, he knew he had.

“Trust a dirty man to play dirty, I should have known better,” he chuckled darkly, offering Hanzo’s ass a slap as he walked past him, further upsetting his balance. “That _won’t_ teach ya, but that won’t stop me from doing it.”

 

* * *

 

The pair ate their lunch together in the now air conditioned dining room, waiting for their clothes to finish their cycle in the wash. A loud _ping_ alerted Hanzo of its finish, prompting him to move into the laundry room to move the load into the dryer.

As Hanzo leaned over into the washer to grab the last item, he felt a figure move to stand behind him, gently getting pressed against the idle machine. “Would you like to help me with the clothes, Jesse?”

“Now what would give you that idea?” The mechanic’s voice washed over Hanzo in waves, thick and dark as molasses. “Can’t a man just keep you company?”

Hanzo smiled at nothing in particular, finally reaching the last article of clothing and standing up, sidling to the side towards the dryer, McCree remaining plastered onto his back, following his every move. “You’re a man of good intentions, I will give you that.”

A scoff sounded in Hanzo’s ears. “Mr. Shimada, did you just compliment me? Well I’ll be.” Equal parts sarcasm and lust stained his voice, a gentle roll of his hips starting up as soon as Hanzo started the dryer. The vibration bled through Hanzo to McCree, the both of them groaning at the sensation. Some languid thrusts pushed them tighter and closer to the vibration, reveling in the feeling. “...You up for round two, Shimada?”

Nodding eagerly, Hanzo returned the force of McCree’s thrusts, divorced between wanting to press forward or back. He settled for forward when McCree grabbed his hands away from the time dial on the machine, raising them so he could hold onto the horizontal hanging bar above the laundry units.

McCree continued his ministrations, leaning away slightly to undo his belt and zipper, pressing flush back onto Hanzo with abandon, bending him at the waist over the machine. Lifting his right hand, McCree covered Hanzo’s own, laying his hands one over the other, squeezing them harder onto the bar.

Moans spilled from Hanzo’s mouth at the treatment. “J-Jesse, more, go faster, plea--”

The unmistakable slide of leather tightened over Hanzo’s wrists, the cool material stopping just short of biting into his flesh before it went lax. Unaware he had closed his eyes, Hanzo opened them to be met with the sight of McCree’s belt tying his hands together onto the bar. The weight behind him also disappeared, but his hips remained pressed flat against the rumbling dryer, vibrations racking his entire body, shivers overtaking him with every second.

“J-Jess-- _Jesse_ , let me go, this-- _uhn_ , y-you can’t--!”

A slap fell on Hanzo’s ass, shudders running through him from the combined stimulation.

“I’ll come back for you when the load is done, something tells me we’ll have to deal with _your_ load by then, too,” McCree’s retreating voice called out, the mechanic making his way toward the garage, stopping at the door frame. “You can fuck with me all you want, sug, but you don’t fuck with a man and air conditioning, especially not a desert man, that shit’s sacred.”

Before the door closed completely, Hanzo’s voice sounded off, quivering against the strain. “MCCREE, YOU-- _GET BACK HERE RIGHT_ \--!”

Letting the door fall shut, McCree returned to work on the car, a whistle on his lips and a cacophony of frustrated moans echoing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my commissioner user darlinhanzo for being so patient and so NICE TO COMMISSION ME WHAT AHHHHHHHH!!!!
> 
> Let me know what you guys thought of it!! <3
> 
> P.S. The car McCree is working on is a Rolls Royce 207 Phantom Coupe. It’s Hanzo’s fav because it’s his chauffeur car and he’s imagined they’ve had sex in it before, some time ago. [maybe a role reversal, where he was the chauffeur?]

**Author's Note:**

> 1) The car Hanzo is driving in the beginning is a 2017 Bentley Mulsanne Speed
> 
> 2) come talk to me on my [tumblr!](https://squelchsquelch.tumblr.com)
> 
> 3)come talk to me more on my [twitter!](https://twitter.com/invizidick)
> 
> Let me know if you like it :)


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